Al Quotion. The Part Of Improvisation (№ 189592)

I stand, searching for the words and look at the little sprigs in red mittens the small sun in her eyes. And she talks a blue streak, she laughs, strictly scrunches up her nose, she shakes off the dust, looking for a vase, makes a noise and lives. The house also reluctantly comes to life, begins to breathe. That heart beat. My? I don't know. And she doesn't notice it, put your bouquet in water and is happy. Just. Just because she is. And brought her the branches - buds. February, and kidneys. And then I realize: these thin twigs concluded a promise of the future. Not a faint hope, and endless confidence in him. And this is the gift of this girl, that's what she brought to my house. And I find myself with that same smile. My happiness... I Hear you, you know. Thank you. Just sometimes I stop believing that the winter will end. And she always knows exactly what lies ahead - spring.